


Monitor

by orphan_account



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Awkwardness, Chilton's a fucking moron, Embarrassment, F/M, Hospitalization, Masturbation, Sexy Creep, Watching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 10:34:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2106447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frederick is in the hospital after his deadly run in with Abel Gideon and his biggest issue is the boredom. Surely, he can find some way to keep him busy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monitor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Polia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polia/gifts).



> Polia wanted a fic based off [this](http://frederick-chilton-ruined-my-life.tumblr.com/post/93461381567) tumblr post  
> 

Everything was white and blue and smelt of hand sanitizer. There was a constant beeping of monitors and IVs and it was enough to drive a person insane. It was depressing as all hell. 

Frederick Chilton had woken up in a hospital room with an elderly woman who was mild mannered, but she snored and it was an issue because she slept for the majority of the day. She had her closet and the wall by her blood pressure machine covered with get well soon cards and there was a teddy bear on her bedside table. It wasn't even one of those bears that you bought from the shop downstairs, but actually one of the expensive ones you would get from a Hallmark store. 

His first thought was that the woman's choice in decor must be a fire hazard of some sort. 

His second thought was that he must not have been in the hospital for long. When one of the secretaries was hospitalized after getting appendicitis, the entire staff bought a cake, balloons, and a giant card signed by everyone at the hospital to give to her. He saw nothing of the sort, so he must have just been hospitalized. Besides, the stitches holding together the gash Gideon left looked fresh. Not that he knew how fresh stitching after a surgery looked, but he sure could assume. 

But after he was told that he's been in the hospital for almost a week, his response was not concern for his own well-being, but if his employees knew where he was. Surely, they couldn't have known. Or else there would  _definitely_ be flowers. 

But after he was told that, yes, the employees of the BSHCI were aware of his whereabouts, his response was to request his own private room. The nurses, you being among them, moved him the following day, and as they placed him in the smaller, yet more secluded private room, he complained to you about his previous roommate's hazardous walls. 

You forced smile and told him that you will take a look. Unfortunately, he was now on your side of the floor and it will be your job to look after him, and you could already tell how hard and demanding the job will be. You and the other nurses did not want to take down the cards from the lady's room, even though you all knew it was a health code violation, but now that there had been a complaint-especially one from a man as powerful as Frederick Chilton-you had no choice but to take down the cards. 

"That man is the most self-centred man I've ever met," you tell your coworkers. "And I only talked to him for two minutes."

Your friend, another nurse, only laughed. "I can already tell you're going to have a lot of fun taking care of him!"

You frown.

 

* * *

 

Three days later, Frederick lay in his uncomfortable cot, staring at the ceiling. The light hurt his eyes, but he was tired of looking at the walls. The TV was on, the channel turned to NBC, where a comedy that he didn't particularly care for was airing. He was bored out of his mind. He had finished all the crosswords from his puzzle book and he had flipped through the magazines the hospital provided dozens of times. 

So he closed his eyes and let his mind wander. He could hear the wheels of a trolley being pushed by his door and he wondered for a moment who may have been pushing it. Maybe the nurse assigned his room. 

It wasn't the first time he had thought of you. You creeped into his head quite a few times; he thought you were gorgeous and sexy. He had lucked out when he requested the room change because now he could watch you everyday when you came in to take his vital. He could catch a glimpse of your cleavage and could watch your thighs and ass as you walked out or bent over to take his medications out of the medical trolley. 

Before he could realize what was happening, Frederick noticed that he was completely hard underneath the thin hospital sheets. At first he thought he would try to will it away, think about something that is completely unsexy, but then he thought that he might as well get off. It had been so long since he had sex and he hadn't jacked off for weeks, even before his hospitalization, so might as well take advantage of the private room in which he was placed and have some fun. He slipped his hand into his pants, shivering when his fingers first grazed his sensitive skin. 

He thought about you straddling him in the hospital bed, slowly unbuttoning your translucent white blouse to reveal your perfect breasts, barely covered by the cups of a red lace bra. He moaned as he spread his precome around and started pumping his cock with long, slow strokes. He thought about you laying flush against him, your hand rubbing him through his pants. 

"Fuck…" he whispered as he squeezed his balls before speeding up the movements of his hand around him. He thrusts his hips into his hand, his muscles clenching. He thinks about your pretty lips around his dick and your hair tangled around his fingers. "Oh my god…"

You bent over the hospital bed, gripping the cheap, rough sheets as he pounds into you.

He bites his lip as his strokes grow desperate.

You feeding him as you ride his cock with your breasts bouncing.

He clenches his free hand around the bedsheets.

You licking that disgusting hospital jelly dessert off his dick.

Frederick's mouth falls open and his body tenses up as he comes, getting it all over himself. He rocks his hips and gets in a few more pumps of his hand before he relaxes. He falls against the thin, hard mattress, sweating and flushing, his chest heaving and the muscles in his forearm tensed. He smiles. 

As soon as he's back in the present, he jumps up and runs, clenching his stomach and flinching in pain, to the connecting bathroom to wash his hands and soak his pants. It did not matter how painful it was for him to get up and move. There was no way that he was going to let you see any evidence of what he just did.

 

* * *

 

 You had just gotten back in from your lunch break when your friend calls you over to the computers. "What's up?" You ask.

"When was the last time you checked Dr. Chilton's heart monitor?" she asks.

"I don't know," you say. "A couple days, maybe. Why?"

"Well, I just looked through and there have been several irregularities," she tells you. "See?"

You frown as you look at the files. He had been hooked to a heart monitor in case anything went wrong with his organs and his body started failing. He heart has always seemed fine when you went to check his vitals and after days of being his nurse, you knew he would have complained if anything had been wrong. But sure enough, there were quite a few different records of his heart having sped up considerably. They were all roughly of the same time and frequency, but they were all at random times, no pattern to them, scattered throughout the day, sometimes with multiple irregularities a day, sometimes with none.

"This only started a couple days ago," you notice. "Maybe it's not too late if it's something fatal. I'll just keep an eye out for the next time it happens."

 

* * *

  

Two hours later, you hear the heart monitor beeping. You go and check and see that Dr. Chilton's heart has sped up yet again. You frown and drop the files you had and head towards his room. You feel a pitt settle at the bottom of your stomach. You are worried that something might really be wrong with him, and you would hate for anything else to happen to that poor, ill-fated man. You pick up speed until you're almost jogging down the hall until you reach the room. The door is half open and through it, all you can see is the foot of the hospital bed. But it is not what you see that makes you stop, but the sounds.

From the other side of the door, you hear heavy exhales and gasps and the occasional moan. You can see the sheets rustling on the bed and you figure he's having a nightmare.  _Poor guy_ _…_ you think. You wait outside the room for a moment longer as his moans grow louder and you hear some grunting. You furrow your eyebrows.  _Why does that sound like he's-_

Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear him moan your name. Loudly. Your heart drops and your mouth falls open.  _What the fuck?!_ You step inside the room and sure enough, Dr. Chilton is sprawled across the cot, his pants around his thighs as he furiously pumps his cock. His eyes are closed and his free hand is gripping the sheets. He did not hear you come in because the mandatory running shoes don't make a sound against the floor. Then again, with the sounds he's making, you probably could have gotten away with wearing jingle bells and stilettos. 

You feel disgusted and violated. Chilton is laying in front of you, writhing and moaning your name. God knows what he has you doing in his imagination. 

"F-fuck yea. Fuck me hard. You're going to be sore tomorrow…" he groans. "Beg for it, ooh yea."

You scowl. "Beg for what, doctor?" You ask.

Chilton's eyes shoot open and the colour completely drains from his face when he sees you standing in front of him. "Oh my god…" he rasps out.

"Yea, you said that already," you mutter.

"H-how long have you been there?" Chilton stammers as he gathers the sheets to cover himself up. His beeping of his heart monitor speeds up even more.

"Long enough to hear you mutter my name seven times," you say. "So just a minute or so."

"I- I wasn't-"

"I know exactly what you were doing, doctor," you say, cutting him off. "Don't let me stop you."

You hadn't anticipated your saying that. You've surprised yourself. But now that you've seen him all riled up, you want to see how he looks like when he's completely sated. 

"W-what?" 

"You heard me," you say, closing the door. "Keep doing what you were doing."

When he makes no move to reach for his cock again, you walk towards him. Chilton does not take his eyes off you as you pull the sheets off him to reveal his still-hard cock. You have to admit, you are surprised at the size. "Go on," you repeat.

Shooting you another nervous, astounded glance, he lowers his hand to wrap around his shaft again. You watch his face as he starts dragging his and up and down slowly, letting out a soft gasp every few strokes. You frown, displeased. "You were going a lot faster when I came in, Dr. Chilton," you say. "And I believe you were a lot louder."

The heart monitor indicates his heart racing even faster now. You smirk. "Don't worry," you say. "I've already seen and heard everything. It won't hurt for me to witness it again." You lean towards him, resting your hands on the cot. You can almost feel the desire radiating off him as his eyes move from your face to down your shirt. "Keep going," you repeat.

Chilton lets out a moan and starts pumping his cock vigorously, grunting your name, along with profanities and desperate noises. "You're so fucking hot, ahh… I want to fuck you unconscious, oh god…" his eyes fall shut as he starts thrusting his hips up against his hand. "Fuck…Oh oh oh! Yes!" The beeping of his heart moniter speeds up even more.

Your own breathing starts to quicken as you watch him get off. You are slightly unsettled by how much you seem to enjoy watching him. You like the idea that you have this sort of control over him. You could have some fun with this. "Oh, yes, doctor," you whisper. "Take me." 

Chilton's eyes snap open to look at your flushing face and seeing you inches away from him pushes him completely over the edge. You start to back away, but he grabs your arm with his free hand, clutching desperately as his other hand offers a couple more strokes as his come spills onto his stomach and thighs. 

When he has unloaded completely, he falls limp against the mattress, panting. His grip on your arm loosens and you tug it away from him. The heart monitor indicates his heart has returned to its regular pace. Chilton lays in front of you, his eyes closed still and an expression that reminds you of what patients look like after they've been sedated. A moment goes by before he opens his eyes. 

He looks at you, panicked. He immediately thinks of all the ways you could use this incident against him. He immediately starts rambling about apologies and explanations and asking you to look past this. You watch him with a completely neutral expression on your face as he fumbles over words. He seems oblivious-or maybe he's just forgotten-to the fact that his pants are still around his thighs and there is still come all over his abdomen and legs. 

He gapes at you after he's run out of words. You smile. "Oh, Dr. Chilton," you say, "I thought I was the one who was supposed to do the begging." You turn and leave before he can respond. 

Your friend sees you as you come back to the desks. "What are you smiling about?" she asks.

"Oh, nothing," you murmur. "I just checked up on Dr. Chilton. His heart rate monitor was showing irregularities again."

"Oh, yea? And what's the verdict?"

"Nothing's wrong, really," you say, "But I am going to have to keep very close watch over him from now on."

**Author's Note:**

> Have requests? You know what to do ;)


End file.
